Cyanide- WW2
by MaplePucks
Summary: In the thick of WW2, Germany attacks the Conference Center filling it with dangerous hydrogen cyanide after boarding it up shut. The other nations panic, running for their lives trying to fight their way out of the situation. The FACE family is terrified, America trying to leading them to safety. Will they make it out? Together? Mild language, FACE, FrUk, Ame Can, blood, violence


**Watched a special on Auschwitz and the gas chambers and had this dream right after. Wasn't going to write it has a fic until an awesome friend of mine suggested it would make a great fic! Turns out she was right, it's one of the faves I've written. **

**Please enjoy and leave a review! **

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Tapping his pen in a generic rhythm on his note pad, Canada sighed in boredom. Another day spent at the conference center doing nothing. The others were talking about war strategies and drawing up battle plan on how to defeat the Axis Powers while Canada sat there being ignored. It wasn't like he hadn't participated in the war, he had saved both England and America several times. Plus he had led raids of his own on the enemy. None of that mattered to the others, he was still invisible when it came time to plan something. Canada almost glared at his twin as he launched into another long winded, unwarranted rant about being a hero.

Canada took a deep breath as he listened, for some reason he didn't feel quite right all of a sudden. The room was beginning to spin and his head was getting light. He glanced around the room, the others all had the same expression, something was wrong with them too. Even America faltered for a brief moment, wavering slightly on his feet and using the table to stable himself. This was interesting Canada thought. Perhaps it was something they had all eaten in the cafeteria that day he mused. Or maybe they were just all exhausted of hearing America prattle on, Canada snorted at the thought.

As America picked up his speech again like nothing had happened, Canada felt something slump against his leg. He looked down and saw Kuma apparently fast asleep. The bear had been playing under the table, probably engaging in one of his favorite past times. Trying to tie Canada's boots together, though lacking thumbs he could never quite get it. Canada gave a small, quiet laugh and bent down to pick him up.

"America putting you to sleep too eh…Kuma?" Canada stopped, something wasn't right. Kuma was all dead weight. Usually he would at least stir with indignation at being picked up while asleep. Today he did he did nothing, Canada immediately became concerned. He placed Kuma on his lap and dug into his pocket, pulling out a treat. "I bet you're just hungry. Here, this should hold you till…dinner…" He said wafting the snack under Kuma's nose. Normally the greedy bear would have lashed out that tongue of his no matter how groggy he was. Today there was no response. Fear setting in, Canada placed his hand on Kuma's chest and one under his nose.

Nothing. Kuma was dead.

Canada's head started reeling more. How could Kuma be dead? Why did he feel so weird? Something had to be wrong in the conference center. Laying Kuma on the table, Canada ran his fingers through his hair and gripped the sides of his head. It was beginning to hurt. This wasn't normal, he had to tell the others.

"Guys…something is wrong." He muttered quietly. No one even looked in his direction. He would have to try to be louder. "Listen, Kuma's…dead!" he tried to shout. Of course it only came out in a barely audible whisper, he thought angrily. In one swift motion, he brought his hand down hard against the table, making a loud slamming noise. Every head snapped in his direction and America blinked curiously at him before giving him a huge grin.

"Well Bro, nice of you to finally join us for a meeting but come on! You can't interrupt a hero while he's talking!" America quipped. Canada shook his head and stood up, wavering slightly like America had. France and England looked up at him with concern from the far end of the long table.

"Iz everyzhing ok mon petit?" France asked sincerely. Once again, Canada shook his head, this time taking a rattling breath.

"Somethings not…right. We gotta get-" He started to say but was cut off. Not by his brother surprisingly, but by the almost never used PA system. It crackled and popped like it was a recording. The voice that rang out was the most interesting part of the occurrence.

"Hallo mein fellow nations. Sorry to interrupt vhat I am sure is a very productive meeting but I have somezhing important to tell you." Germany's voice boomed. All of them looked nervously at each other. Suring the height of a World War, it wasn't exactly comforting to hear the main enemy's voice break in to a meeting. Canada felt himself getting sick as he listened.

"I hate to have to tell you zhis, but you all are getting in the Axis's way. You must be eliminated." Germany said. Most of them gasped, America just laughed. Canada noticed that he was breathing heavier, they all were. Most of them were reaching up to pull at their collars, Canada himself loosening his own tie.

"HA! Good luck with that you potato freak. You can't eliminate a hero like me!" America yelled over the recording. England furrowed his brow and motioned for him to be quiet.

"Shut it, Germany is still talking!" He said furiously. He seemed worried, Canada couldn't blame him. He was just as worried.

"Unfortunalty for you, za conference center is rigged to fill with both carbon monoxide and hydrogen cyanide. You might be feeling za effects already. As you do not fit into za New World Order, zhere iz no need for you anymore. Zo I must bid you auf wiedersehen." Germany finished. The PA system clicked off, leaving them in silence.

The Allies looked at each other dumbfounded, that's why Kuma was dead Canada thought glancing down to his fallen companion. He must have been the first to fall victim. Canada begun to notice China was leaning heavily on the table for support, England was taking short quick breaths, America was still swaying on his feet and France was trying to stifle coughs. As for himself, Canada noticed it was getting harder to breath. His lungs contracted painfully and he was fairly sure he might throw up as well, he was feeling very queasy.

It only took them one more half second of gawking at each other before they all sprang into action.

To Canada, it was the beginning of chaos.

In an instant America was by his side, slapping something wet roughly into his hand. Then with more than enough force, America wrenched that hand up to Canada's face smashing what he now realized was a wet cloth against his nose. It stung with pain for a few moments. When America took his hand away, Canada got the feeling that he wanted him to keep his own hand there. Still, he stared incredulously at his twin and lowered it a little so he could talk.

"That hurt America, pretty sure you just broke my nose!" Canada said forcefully. He noticed America also had a cloth on his face and two more in his other hand. America actually rolled his eyes at him.

"Right now Bro, that should be the least of your worries. Stay right here, I'm going to get England and France." America said. Canada was struck by how absolutely serious his brother was. Gone was the playfulness in his blue eyes, it was replaced with something Canada rarely ever saw. Fear. America was terrified, Canada could read that well enough. Canada nodded at him and he took off.

It was hard to tell if the cloth was actually doing anything, Canada still felt very dizzy and sick. He supposed it wasn't getting any worse, that was a good thing. He glanced out into the hallway and saw a mass of nations running towards the exit doors. It had been a big conference. The Allies were there but so were some of the other European nations, Austria, Hungary, and Switzerland. The Nordics were scheduled to be here, Ukraine and Belarus, the Baltics, there were a number of them. It did make a lot of strategic sense as to why the Axis would choose then to attack. Canada started to panic slightly, how was he and the others going to get through all that?

Suddenly, the force akin to a Mack truck plowing into a car hit Canada in his side, followed by two other smaller forces. When he looked over he saw his brother pushing him, England and France close behind. America was stern and he gave Canada another great push, nearly knocking his off his feet. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn America was trying to kill him before the gas did.

"Move!" America hissed at him from behind his cloth. With another push, all four of them were running towards the door.

In the throng of nations outside in the corridor, America took charge. He grabbed Canada's free hand and yanked him along. Out of the corner of his eye, Canada saw an extremely worried England do the same to a panicked France. All four of them kept pace with each other, somewhat weakly racing down the hall, America roughly pushing his way through making a path for them.

As they ran, Canada could tell they were all losing strength quickly. Canada's legs had begun to feel like lead weights and his lungs were on fire. He wanted to slow down but America yanked him on when he tried. Even so, Canada could also tell he was losing speed too and his face was getting paler. This was frightening, his brother never showed any weakness. Not that he was willingly showing it but Canada was still very worried about his twin.

A strangled cry beside them and both of them stopped dead in their tracks. It had been a painful noise and it had come from a loved one.

England was kneeling down beside a felled France. The Frenchman was gripping his chest hard, taking rasping breaths, gulping at the air and wincing in pain. Canada and America ran over as England was trying his best to pull him off the ground so that they could run again.

"Come on Frog! Now is not the time for dramatics!" England yelled. Even though he sounded annoyed, Canada could see the worry and fear etched across his face. France shook his head and slumped down further onto the floor, almost lying completely on his side.

"Non…run mon amour…mon petit…Amérique. Get out of 'ere!" France struggled. England's eyes grew wide and he reached down and grabbed France's collar.

"You're coming with us wine bastard, whether you like it or not!" England yelled shaking him roughly. To their horror, France's eyes slide shut and he collapsed fully on to the ground, completely still. Canada wanted to scream out for him, he thought for sure France was now dead like Kuma. It was too much for him to process, how did a nation just die so easily? He bit back his lip as he watched England continue to shake France and America stepped towards them, taking in his own ragged breath. He looked pained, however, Canada had the feeling it wasn't physical.

"England, we gotta go. France is go-" He started to say but was cut off by a loud smack that rang out in their almost now deserted stretch of hallway.

A red handprint formed on France's face as he took a deep gasping breath, eyes shooting open. England leaned over him, placing his head against his forehead, whispering words of apology into his ear. Canada was shocked, he had seen them get into plenty of provoked fist fights but he had never seen England smack France that hard. Still, Canada's heart was relieved to see France breathing again, that gave him a small glimmer of hope. Maybe they would make it out of this alive.

As gently as he could, England hoisted France up, throwing one of his arms under France's. Wrapping his arm tightly around France's torso, he began to pull the half conscious France slowly down the hallway. Both wet cloths they had had lay abandoned on the floor. Canada was excited to start moving again and turned to run but America sighed and looked sadly at England.

"He's too far gone England, you'll be next! Please leave him-" America started calmly. England cut him off with a sharp growl.

"I will take care of France! You get your brother and get out! WE," England said forcefully, motioning to both him and France with his free hand, "will be right behind you and will meet you outside!" He said. Canada became frightened, he didn't want to be separted from each other. America, however, took one last pleading look at England and then turned sharply on his heel, grabbing Canada's hand. With a tug forceful enough to almost wrench Canada's arm out of its socket, the two were back to racing down the hall, leaving England to struggle with France.

Canada tried hard to think back to a time where he may have been more frightened. It was hard, even when he had been out in the wilderness alone waiting for someone to find him he hadn't been this frightened. Not even during the many wars he had fought, and that was including the War of 1812 when he thought he might never be able to trust America again. This was a new level of scared and Canada didn't like it. As they ran, he found himself gripping America's hand tighter. Thankfully, he got a weak but reassuring squeeze back.

After trying several locked doors, America had mused that Germany must have welded them shut, the twins came upon the rest of the trapped nations. They ere all at a window, screaming an yelling at each other. It was very crowded and Canada felt the panic in the air. It was hard to see over the heads of the others but Canada was wondering why they weren't just going out the window. America craned his neck to see and then curled his lip in a disgusted frown.

"You've got to be shitting me! How did the bastard manage to board up the windows when we were all here?!" America snarled, pulling Canada into the crowd.

When they finally got to the window, Canada was shocked at the horrific scene. Most of the nations, ghostly pale and wheezing at this point, were clawing at the boarded up window. Trying in panic to pry off the boards, some of them had obviously been doing that until their fingers bled. Canada could see the long trails of blood running down the yellow ply board. Their strength as nations seemed to be failing them, or else they were just too frightened to think to use it.

America turned to face the other nations, looking them each in the eye. Canada saw that some were slumped against the wall, either near death or actually dead. It was terrible to think that nations could be killed so easily. He shuddered and glanced back down the hall way, no sign of France or England.

"Alright! Listen to me everyone!" America boomed over the screams and crying. All of them grew quiet, staring up at America expectedly. "We need to pull ourselves together! We all need to calm down and take a moment to think about our situation. I know we're scared and not feeling right but we are this close to getting out of here. We can't let fear tell the end of our story, we're nations after all! Fearless and proud!" He yelled. Everyone in the crowded looked between themselves and then back up at America nodding in agreement.

It amazed Canada how quickly he could go from playing the comic relief hero to actually being a hero.

A very frightened and shaking Lithuania stepped forward. "Mr. America, what would you like us to be doing?" He asked. Poland was clinging tight to his arm, Canada thought he looked about as bad as France had. America gave him a solemn nod.

"Russia, you and China get that side," America barked pointing over to the left side of the window, "Canada and I will grab this side. On three we'll each pull!" He yelled running over to the window. Canada quickly followed him. He may not look like it but he was just as strong if not stronger than his twin. Once Russia and China were in place, America yelled out the countdown.

All it took were a few good back and forth tugs before the nails gave way and the boards came down. The nations rushed the double wide window, flinging it open.

The cool, fresh evening air hit Canada hard, making him a little dizzier but his lungs were more than happy. Had it been any longer, Canada was certain they would have exploded. He took large breaths as the others began rushing out. Even being on the second floor didn't stop them jumping, Canada watched them plop softly down on the grass and run from the building. He wasn't much looking forward to his own jump but he was glad to have the chance to.

Suddenly, he felt two arms wrap around his waist and hoist him onto the windowsill. Canada looked back and was shocked to see America. He was still very serious and was practically shoving Canada out the window. Canada threw his arm out to grip the side so that he couldn't be pushed out.

"America! What are doing? You're gonna make me fall, I can do this on my own. Just let me catch my breath." Canada said. America shook his head and continued to push on him.

"No time Bro, do it down there. I need to make sure you're ok before I go." America said. Canada could have sworn he heard a small quiver in the man's voice. He looked at his twin curiously.

"Go? Where are you-" He stopped, eye's growing wide with horror. He gripped America's bomber jacket hard with his free hand, "America no! England said they'd meet us outside! For once you need to do as you're told!" Canada yelled. America simply peeled his hand away from his jacket.

"I have to go back for England, he needs his hero." America said gently, trying to show off all of his teeth by giving Canada his best heroic smile. Canada glanced behind him and sighed. It was still dangerous in there and he didn't want his brother to go. But he also knew there was no stopping his headstrong stubborn twin.

"Please be careful," Canada said bracing himself to jump, "And please don't forget about France either." Canada whispered. He was tremendously worried about his Papa. He hoped he was ok. America nodded.

"I'll be fine lil' bro don't worry!" America quipped.

With a gentle shove, Canada jumped from the window, landing softly in the grass.

Moving slowly, slowly like he was in a trance Canada worked his way through the forming crowd. It was less chaotic then it had been inside, the nations were calming down in the fresh air. Most were now sitting at the benches placed outside or against trees trying to catch their breaths. Canada vaguely listened to the various conversations he passed by. All were concerned with nothing but hate for Germany. Right now though, Canada couldn't care less about who was to blame. He looked up to the conference center warily. His only though was that he wanted the rest of his family to come join him outside.

As the minutes ticked by, Canada became more restless. He went from nation to nation, trying to console as many as possible. The action was more for himself, trying to keep himself calm and focused on other things. Not that he didn't care about any of the others, he did probably more then he should, but he was extremely worried about his own family. He kept glancing at the window expecting to see one of the three jumping down.

It was nearly twenty minutes later and while Canada was trying to help a heartbroken Hungary sobbing over an unconscious Austria, when he heard a familiar voice call out his all too familiar nickname.

"YO CANADIA!" His brother yelled. Canada saw an arm shoot up over the crowd, waving at him. Not wasting a moment, Canada jumped up and raced towards him.

The Canadian plowed into his American brother with a force equal to the shove he given him earlier in the conference room. The only detail he took half a second to take in was that neither England nor France was with him. For just a brief moment, he let relief that his brother was ok flood him. Until he realized something was wrong. As he held his twin close, Canada could feel warmth flowing down the middle of his abdomen. No, he shook his head against America's shoulder and his brother just pulled him in tighter. Canada didn't want or need to look at what was causing it. The feeling he had in the pit of his own stomach told him exactly what it was.

After a few more moments of desperate hugging, Canada sighed and drew back. Even though he already knew America was hurt, that did not take the shock away when he saw it. Canada gasped and touched the gaping wound on his brother's torso.

"God! America you've been stabbed! How the hell did that happen?" Canada shrieked. America partially collapsed onto him but was smiling all the same. Canada supported him as he began to lead him over to one of the trees.

"Naw bro, shot actually." He struggled. Leaning him down to rest against a thick tree, Canada looked at him curiously.

"Who shot you? Was it Germany? If he's around here we need to warn the others. We aren't prepared for another attack right now!" Canada cried, looking around wildly for any sign of the German. To his relief, America shook his head.

"No it was friendly fire," he winced and gripped his wound tight. "I was trying to help Liechtenstein out of the window. Switzerland came up and panicked, thought I was trying to hurt her I guess. He got me before I could move out of the way." He grinned, like he was trying to be a good sport in the game Switzerland had clearly won. Canada shook his head and kneeled down beside America.

"It's not funny America," He sighed. He helped America shrug off his jacket and then nestled it behind his head for support. Reclining back against it, America continued to grimace in pain. Canada placed his hand on his shoulder softly. "What do you want me to do?" He asked.

"Get me England," America winced. Canada stared at him for a brief moment before he continued. "Yea, I know I got him to the window at some point. He'll be able to heal me in no time." He said, Canada's head reeled with the new information. So England was safe that was a relief. He wanted to ask about France but America coughed and the bleeding got worse. Quickly, Canada nodded and was off into the crowd again.

Using his curse of invisibility to his advantage for once, Canada slipped easily and quickly through the nations. Each face he saw was more haggard then the last. This attack would take a while to recover from. Canada felt himself getting angry. If any of them died, America, France or any of the others, Germany would pay. He grit his teeth, Germany would pay dearly.

Finally, after minutes of searching, Canada spotted England's green uniform in the crowd. Pushing his way over, Canada was relieved to see there wasn't any blood on him. Though he blinked wearily at Canada as the nation started tugging on him.

"England, come on America needs your help!" Canada said. The Brit seemed dazed and wouldn't even budge.

"Who are you? I request that you cease pulling on me in that manner." England said stiffly, pulling his arm away. Canada reached up and grabbed the sides of his face, forcing him to look him in the eye.

"I'm Canada! Your son! Snap out of it England!" He said shaking England hard. Slowly, England looked him up and down.

"Canada…" He repeated. When he looked down a second time, his eye's grew wide at the sight of blood on Canada's uniform. That seemed to snap him out of his daze. "Canada! You're bleeding! How badly are you hurt?!" He exclaimed, placing a hand on Canada's abdomen. All Canada could do was shake his head in reply.

"It's not mine…" Canada said softly. It was like everything finally clicked for England.

"Lead me to your brother! Immediately!" He commanded. Nodding, Canada grabbed his hand and pulled him into the crowd.

When they finally reached the tree, the scene they found was not exactly comforting. America was slumped further down, practically laying on the ground. He was breathing hard. Blood dripped from both his mouth and from between the fingers gripping his wound. Despite all that, he smiled when he saw England with Canada.

"I knew…I tossed…you out of the…window!" He breathed. Both Canada and England helped him sit up and the Brit pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

"Indeed, we will discuss your rescuing techniques later," he said, wiping the blood from America's mouth. "Now, hold still as possible. You know this is going to hurt." England instructed. America nodded and braced himself against the tree.

As England set to work healing America with his magic, Canada found himself scanning the crowd for France's face. If America had saved England, then he had to have saved France as well.

There was a small cough behind him and he heard the last voice he expected.

"Birdie…" a very tired but relieved voice said. Whipping around and standing up faster than he meant to, Canada saw his silver haired, red eyed lover. Weak and worn, but alive.

"Prussia!" Canada exclaimed. He didn't think or hesitate for a second and threw himself into the man's arms. Relief washed over him as he pressed his lips against Prussia's, getting the action in return for his effort. True the war had strained their relationship but it hadn't kept them apart.

The blissful reunion only lasted a few moments before being stopped abruptly by a sharp tug on Canada's pant leg. It nearly toppled him over and he broke from the kiss with a gasp. He looked behind him angrily to an equally as angry America. His twin shook his head roughly.

"Don't kiss that son of bitch! His little brother tried to kill us all!" America snarled, eye's shooting daggers at Prussia. Canada opened his mouth to give him a crushing retort about how Prussia was different but the man stepped forward to defend himself.

"Ja, zhat is true but I am a victim of it too. I vas in zhere fighting with you guys, not against you." He said quietly. They all looked at him dumbfounded. He shook his head, "West never told me vhat he was planning. He urged that I be here today, zhat it vas vital for me specifically to do zhis recon mission on za conference center. He-West, mein own little bruder, tried to kill me too." Prussia finished. Canada cupped his hand on the side of Prussia face and wiped away a single tear with his thumb.

"It's alright Prussia, I believe you." He said. He doubted his brother or England did but that did matter to him. Prussia nodded but didn't smile.

"Birdie, I-I have somezhing to show you. To show all of you, und you're not going to like it." Prussia whispered. Canada's heart dropped, he had a horrible feeling he already knew exactly what it was but nodded at him anyway. England helped America up and all three of them followed Prussia to a small clearing out front. A clearing that was now had unconsciousness or dead nations lining the way.

As they walked, Canada felt himself get sicker by the second. Like he was back inside fighting for his life. Where ever Prussia was leading them, he didn't want to go. He wanted to scream and run the other way. To kick and fight, throw a tantrum like a little child. Anything to prevent him from having to see it. But Prussia kept pulling him on, to the end of the first row where a nation in a blue cloak lie still. Canada froze and stared at France's face, pale and utterly lifeless.

England let go of America and flew down the ground, lifting France into his arms shaking him again. He began mumbling about how it was his fault, how France had insisted he leave him behind because he was slowing him down. Canada distinctly heard the phrase "Stupid Frog, why?" repeated several times before England let out a low sob, clutching him close to his chest. Canada looked back up at Prussia.

"Is- is he dead Pru?" Canada asked, his brother scoffed at him.

"Of course he's dead. What a…what a dumb question bro!" America said, his voice cracking slightly with grief. He tried to hide it but Canada knew he loved France more then he let on. Prussia, however, shook his head.

"He is not dead," he whispered. They all gasped, "but he is as good as dead right now. He is in a deep coma. I'm…I'm not sure he vill ever come out of it." He trailed off quietly.

Canada bit back tears as he gripped Prussia's arm tightly. War took its toll on every one. No one was safe anymore, not in this New World Order.


End file.
